


House of Kink

by AlexisGreen



Category: Muse
Genre: AU, Belldom - Freeform, Kink, Light BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 18:19:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/916490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexisGreen/pseuds/AlexisGreen





	House of Kink

Ever since he’d walked up the stairs, an inexplicable lump lodged in his throat. And as he waited to be allowed inside the room, checking obsessively that he’d followed the dress code to the letter, that lump had not budged one bit. In fact it was still there, long after a sharp “Enter!” had been called and the door had shut behind him.  
“Sit down,” the client had gestured, long fingers cutting the air. “The edge of the bed is fine.”

The thick carpet had swallowed his footsteps. Crisp white sheets had shuffled as he sat. Muffled sound of voices bled into the room from his client’s headphones occasionally. Sometimes frantic typing at the laptop ensued, the desk in the corner kitted out just like a small office, dual screens, wifi hub, keyboards. Otherwise the silence between them stretched on.

His left leg started to go numb. He’d lost track of the time. Dominic shifted just slightly to get blood flowing into his limbs again. His movement went unnoticed, so he dared examine his first paid assignment in several months. The oversized screen hid most of his face, despite the glare. Slim, brunet, that was all that the semi-darkness of the room allowed. And a voice to die for, Dominic remembered, as chills traveled along his spine in recollection. Firm, confident. Dominating.

More typing followed. A phone call was made, another opportunity for Dominic to listen to that incredible accent, firmly arguing delivery dates, shipments and press conferences. The man sounded like he’d been born to boss other people around, and it made Dominic wonder just what exactly was expected of him tonight.

“Did they tell you anything about me?”

The question landed out of the blue, and it took him several moments to realise it was addressed to him. “No. No, sir,” Dominic amended quickly, mind flying back to his training. “Except…”

The pause earned him the first direct gaze from the client. “Go on, except what?”

Dominic had obviously misspoken. It was too late to back out. He kept his eyes meekly on the floor and explained. Perhaps honesty would earn him a pardon. “Both my trainer and Ms. Florian warned me that I’d be kicked out if I disobey you. Sir.”

“My name is Matthew Bellamy. I own part of this… establishment.” The sense of entitlement in his voice made Dominic shake. A little bit of fear, more than a lick of desire. A reminder that although he’d been employed weeks ago, he had yet to perform any of his attributions and that his future very much depended on that performance. His heart rate picked up as Mr. Bellamy carried on. “My affairs keep me away most of the time, so Zoey takes care of the business for me. So you see, they’re right. If you displease me, I could have you back on the streets in no time. Although, to be fair,” his eyes did a thorough sweep of the young man a few feet away as he spoke, “I’m more likely to punish you for my own private satisfaction.”

“I’d like to please you.” Not even Dominic knew where the reaction came from. A hand flew to his mouth to prevent himself from speaking out of turn again.

The transgression seemed to be overlooked. His client seemed amused, rather than angry. “You may call me Mr. Bellamy. Or sir. I quite like that.”

Dominic acknowledged his request eagerly. “Yes, Mr. Bellamy.”

“Aren’t you an obedient little one?”

With that endearment, Mr. Bellamy returned to work and Dominic returned to examining the strange way his stomach flip flopped. He’d been fucked before, only a couple of times for money since he’d hit the streets, but earlier too, when he was still living at home and going to school like a regular teen. He’d sucked plenty of cock and had given countless handjobs. Since being recruited for the club, his entire sexual education had veered into a completely different direction. Even so, he couldn’t remember getting a hard-on as fast, ever, just from a few words thrown in his direction from across the room.

As time slid along at a snail’s pace, Dominic silently cursed the masochist who had hid all the clocks from the room. Having some kind of idea of the time would have given him an indication that his brain wasn’t going full on bonkers with anticipation. And yet, his training came back to him, the weeks spent in the downstairs rooms with Ms. Florian and Beck. And without even turning, he knew that behind him, in a nondescript black box on the bedside table, any number of props would have been placed prior to his arrival and at Mr. Bellamy’s own request. Nope, no chance in hell he would have been summoned just to act like a piece of furniture. Inside his tight dress pants, his cock awakened despite his frantic efforts to the contrary.

“Why don’t you unbutton your shirt, Dominic?”

Mr. Bellamy must have been paying attention. Flustered but with weeks of triggers drilled into him, Dominic obeyed. Fingers flew to the collar of his shirt as Dominic hurried to comply.

“Slowly, please. I want to watch.”

The lump in his throat grew bigger. That voice, polite and dripping with honey, already made the hair on his arms stand. He cursed his fingers as they trembled and struggled to get even one button prised open. Then finally, he could breathe, collar finally pushed open and fingers finding the second button blindly. Dominic made sure to take it slowly, just like he’d been told. His eyes remained trained on the desk in the corner of the room, even though Mr. Bellamy now leaned back, chair hidden in the shadow. His fingers slipped inside his shirt, to touch his own skin, to feel the heat that had risen through him as soon as Mr. Bellamy had issued his first order. And then he moved lower, one more button released and more fabric peeled aside, and one more button, and one more, until his shirt hung open fully.

“Take off your belt, please.”

A fresh, and oh-so-polite order. Dominic wished he knew what was next, but it was not his place to try to foresee, only to remain in the moment and submit to the request. He pulled the leather belt free with one swift movement and then he hesitated. He’d not been told what to do with it.

“The floor will do, Dominic. Unbutton your pants. Lower your zipper.” In the corner, in the shadows, Mr. Bellamy made himself more comfortable. “Are you wearing any underwear?”

His throat was nearly too constricted to talk, so Dominic wet his lips a little before croaking. “No, sir.”

“Good, pull your cock out for me. That’s it,” encouragement washed over Dominic, bringing out a full blush in his cheeks. “Stroke yourself, Dominic. I want you to jerk off for me, little one.”

Hearing that hard voice had been enough to make him hard. Hearing that command made Dominic pray that he wouldn’t lose it like a schoolboy and spurt all over the carpet after two strokes. His cock felt feverish in his hand.

“Tsk, tsk, not so fast, little one.” Fresh shivers down Dominic’s back and his hand stopped mid-corkscrew. “Slowly. I’ve been waiting for this moment, I want to savour it. I want you to take your time, tease yourself, make it last. Look at me, little one. I want you to keep your eyes on me and know that every single move you make is for me, is because I asked for it.”

That confidence wreaked havoc through his body. He thought of all the techniques that had been preached to him before, on how to tame his arousal and delay the climax. He probably would have been successful if some random, fat, hairy businessman was jerking his cock in his face, but not here, with faceless but godly-voiced Mr. Bellamy calmly ordering him around. Dominic squeezed his balls to the point where tears gathered to the corner of his eyes. He whispered, “Yes, sir.”

“Oh, and little one? No coming without my permission.”

Oh, now that he fully expected, as he found a slow rhythm of long, lazy pulls and tight corkscrews. His eyes stayed fixed on the desk in the corner, even as Mr. Bellamy seemed to forget he was there, naked for his pleasure, even as his own eyes glazed over every few minutes when he came close. He fingered the slit of his cock, ran his nails over the ridges of the cockhead, over and over, finding out ways to pleasure himself he’d never really looked for in the instant gratification wanks of his previous life. He bit into the flesh of his arm, he pinched the sensitive skin next to his groin when the pleasure got unbearable. And seconds later, he started again, wondering if he wasn’t hallucinating by then and if Mr. Bellamy watched in fact hungrily, the way his cock wept with the beg of release. Soon, although it could have been an hour or two later, sweat covered his body, from the root of his blond hair, to the back still covered in the expensive white shirt, sending small drops into his eyes, permeating the bed covers underneath him. Still his cock stayed hard and all thoughts of climax stayed out of reach.

In his trance, he thought he finally saw Mr. Bellamy rise. Only when a cold hand swept the wet bangs off his forehead, did he dare to believe that maybe an end to his torment was near. Chin tilted up, right hand still twisting around his flushed cock, Dominic awaited next orders. Unable to squirm, unable to stop from delivering just a measured dose of pleasure to himself, he found blue eyes staring back at him.

“You’re such a pretty boy. Zoey has been singing your praises, you know. Long limbs, a little tan, shaggy blond hair, full lips I’d love to see around my cock.” Dominic’s skin broke into goosebumps as Mr. Bellamy’s right hand tangled into his hair and pulled hard. “Funny, she never mentioned you were so eager to please.”

Mr. Bellamy leaned closer and stopped just short of kissing him. “Although I have other plans for tonight. Don’t worry, we’re not going to try anything… unnatural. Not today, at least.”

Two fingers brushed against Dominic’s erection and picked up the moisture beading at the top. Blue steel eyes never lost their edge, even when Mr. Bellamy tasted Dominic off his fingertips, even when the young man’s body was wrecked with tremors at the first touch that night that wasn’t his own.

“Remember little one, no coming unless I say so.”

And just like that, Dominic found himself free of his grip, out of that hypnotic stare and ready to plea for permission in any way his body allowed.

Mr. Bellamy didn’t walk, he prowled. And that was an odd thought, because before he entered the room that evening, Dominic imagined himself as the prize. He’d been groomed, prepared, trained for so long now. He knew different now, he realised, as arousal weighed heavy in his belly and just the right amount of apprehension tickled his muscles. Anyone would have been lucky to just share the air in the room with Mr. Bellamy, the man who had him close to orgasm within ten words.

A wooden lid snapped shut. Mr. Bellamy returned to stand in front of him. A single, black scarf hung in his hand. Silk. Narrow. Long. Damn lump in his throat didn’t prevent Dominic from blurting out. “Would you like to tie me up, sir?”

A small quirk of lips, and Dominic wondered if he’d ever be allowed to kiss their thin form.

Mr. Bellamy reached out to stroke his cheek once, tenderly. “Yes, little one. Although we probably have different things in mind.” Fingers draped in silk rubbed over Dominic’s mouth, urging his lips to part and wet the fabric. “You can stop masturbating now. Wouldn’t want you to be sore for the best part.”

More than a little dazed, Dominic watched Mr. Bellamy fold to his knees between his legs. His hands handled the scarf and Dominic’s cock expertly, tying the silk tightly around his balls, running some of its length to separate them. The remaining length was wrapped loosely around Dominic’s cock until it disappeared in its folds.

Still on his knees, Mr. Bellamy ran a graceful hand over Dominic’s erection until the silk stained with dripping precome.

The air had been sucked from the room, and Dominic was certain only an act of divinity had prevented him from embarrassing both himself and Mr. Bellamy. He took shallow breaths. Whimpers vibrated in his throat; he sounded close to purring, except he lacked any grace. If Mr. Bellamy chose to chastise him for the lapse in etiquette, he felt positive it would have been preferable to the dealing with the disappointment in those blue eyes.

But Mr. Bellamy rose with a satisfied smile, fingers toying with the young man’s nipples briefly, like it was a diversion, an amuse-bouche on his way to the main course. “You did good, little one."

In response, Dominic flushed with pleasure, biting his bottom lip, desperately trying to prevent the shivers that shook his frame from triggering his orgasm. Not that he’d ever been able to come without being penetrated or without touching himself, but he had a feeling a lot of things could change that night.

“Turn around. On your hands and knees.”

Dominic thought about asking about the rest of his clothes, but then again Mr. Bellamy knew exactly what he wanted, and it was not his place to question what he’d been ordered. He fumbled a little when the pants slid off his hips, but if Mr. Bellamy disapproved, he didn’t say a word. In fact, Mr. Bellamy’s hand caressed the top of his thigh, and the heat radiating off his body warmed Dominic’s sweaty skin in a way that made him feel branded with a hot iron.

Dominic felt bereft when the hand left him, although he knew it would be but a short respite. To his side, Mr. Bellamy opened the unobtrusive box on the bedside table and retrieved a condom and a small bottle of lube. So if Dominic had any complaints - not that he was in any position to make demands - these were only related to the fact that by the time Mr. Bellamy rolled the condom on, he was already out of Dominic’s line of sight and slipping two fingers into Dominic’s ass.

There was little prelude. Mr. Bellamy’s long fingers reached inside of him a few times, but by now a different type of pleasure, more basic and demanding built into him. Dominic prepared himself to be used; he braced himself, on his elbows, ass up in the air, grabbing handfuls of crisp sheets when Mr. Bellamy’s large cock slid into him. It hurt, in a wonderful way. The pain branded him from the inside this time, but still it hurt, feeling like he’d been already broken and the pain of being put together outranked the original wound.

Everything changed when Mr. Bellamy picked up the ends of the scarf and used them as reigns and Dominic soon wondered if he’d ever be sane again. Sane or sober as opposed to being addicted to Mr. Bellamy’s controlling touch. The silk added pressure from two directions. It scratched and it caressed. It moved in sync with each strong thrust into him, sending him spiralling beyond any thresholds of pleasure he’d experienced before. Each push into him made the scarf squeeze his balls, drawing him back from the brink of climax, and every time Mr. Bellamy withdrew, the scarf rubbed his cock in unpredictable ways, pulling him tight against his belly one moment, and then unloosening the next.

Mr. Bellamy’s fingers left deep marks on Dominic’s back, scratching his ownership into the young man’s skin. He pivoted on the bed, bringing both of them down and onto their sides. He ripped the shirt down Dominic’s arms, using it to restrain Dominic and leave him helpless, as he drove himself inside, relentless and ruthless. Their voices mingled together, Dominic whimpering, Mr. Bellamy whispering encouragement, calling him little one, his own.

There was rhythm, there was pain, Dominic suspected there would always be pain, but the pleasure far outweighed it. Addiction, Dominic realised, came in many forms and the most dangerous had just sunk his teeth in his neck, and had slipped his hand inside the curls of silk and squeezed him once, just once, to deliver him into oblivion.


End file.
